


A Walking Denial

by awalkingdenial



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst, Depression, Happy Ending, I'll give you my address if you want it, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Well it depends on you, every top song ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 11:40:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9438599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awalkingdenial/pseuds/awalkingdenial
Summary: Tyler has lost his best friend, and along with that, a reason to keep going.There's Josh's cat, Josh's hair never ending color switch, and a lot of love memories.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is my second fic ever in English. Don't be too harsh with me-- actually, be. I put a lot of me in this. Even if you don't like it, I hope it leaves you something. Thank you for reading.

(acrazysuicidalheadcase)

 

  
_You will never know what’s behind my skull. You will never know what’s under my hair.  You will never know what’s under my skin. You will never know what’s in my veins._

_You will never know. You will never know.  You will nev_

 

The sun was bright. The sun was shining when it had no reason to. The sky was the bluest blue in the history of all the blues thousands of skies had worn off and it made Tyler sick.

Although Tyler was also sick when the sky was grey, just as the ashes of the letter he had just burned. The black smoke staining the air around him made his eyes sting.

 

He tried to remember what crying felt like. He didn’t need to put too much effort to do it.  He felt on the verge of it all the time, but the last tears he had shed had dried on his cheeks months ago.

 

He blew the ashes away from the sill and carefully closed his window. 

 

_“I like mornings.”_

 

_“Oh, yes. Waking up early, still being late to school, and oh, stress.”_

 

_“Not it that way, Ty, come on. I’m serious. I just like watching the sun rise. It means what we did has been undone. We can try again.”_

 

He let the thick, black curtains fall into place.

 

The light had gone from his life. He didn't need it in his room.

 

*

 

“Are you hungry, honey?”

 

Tyler shook his head.

 

His mother couldn’t hide her disappointment. “I brought you a taco,” she began. “You love tacos.”

 

He covered his face with his hands. He didn’t love anything. He had farewelled Love.

 

“Please, Tyler. Don’t starve yourself. Do it for me. Eat something.” She left the bag still wrapped on the kitchen table and then left herself to go to work.

 

He grabbed it and took it upstairs. He knocked on Zack’s door. 

 

His brother opened a few seconds later. “What is it this time?” he asked interestedly. 

 

Tyler unwrapped the bag. Zack’s smile widened at the smell. “Tacos! Thank you, Ty.”

 

He just pinched his chapped lips between his thumb and forefinger in response. 

 

“Sure, I won’t tell mom.”

 

Tyler decided to go outside and sit on the bench that his dad had put in the garden behind their house years before. He kicked a few pebbles while he was sitting. 

 

He felt nothing.

 

There was an old swing a few steps far. It was under an oak Tyler used to climb when he was a kid. He wished he could turn back time to those good old days.

 

_“Would you like to be a king, Tyler?”_

 

_Tyler looked down at Josh from the oak. He was sitting on the grass and had a questioning look on his sweaty, flushed face._

 

_“Maybe. A king of a kingdom. Or maybe of swinging on a swing.”_

 

The swing was dirty now. Old. Unused. Tyler felt the need to destroy it, but just as he was trying to remember where his father’s ax was he heard something that distracted him from the thought.

 

Tyler tried to silence his thoughts and caught a weak meow. 

 

A little kitten was shyly coming towards him.

 

He widened his eyes in horror. He froze, muscles not responding. As the cat kept getting closer, Tyler pressed his back against the wall in an attempt to move farther from it. As he saw it jumping on the bench he closed his eyes and waited. Warm fur rubbed against his hand. He retrieved it as if he got burned and stood up immediately. He picked up a pebble from the ground and threw it at the animal. He didn’t want to see it ever again.

 

 

*

 

Sometimes Tyler thought about killing himself. No dramatical things about it. Just cutting his time off, leaving a body that gave him no pleasure, a life that kept him prisoner, a destiny that betrayed him.

 

Tyler had known Happiness.

 

He couldn’t cut his wrists. He had no razor sharp enough to do a precise job and he wouldn’t have been able to cut the right way to not get stitched up again.

 

Tyler had a Friendship that had allowed him to.

 

He could not set himself on fire. He had already set fire to his treehouse during one of  his Worst Days. The smell of gas hadn’t left his hands for days and it had stained a few memories he used to take good care of. He just didn’t like the idea.

 

Tyler had no possibility of ever being happy now because that Friendship had dissolved like salt in water.

 

He could poison himself. Overdose his drugs.

 

Dying on Xanax. Almost mainstream.

 

*

 

During that evening, everything was just the same as usual. Tyler felt no different, but he didn’t push away his father’s warm hand when it patted his shoulder, nor did he deny his mother’s offers for dessert. He looked at his siblings’ smiles more attentively, gathering resolution at the sight of his family being serene.

 

Later, upstairs, he curled up in his bed. Under the covers the sounds of the things he would have missed were muffled. 

 

_“I wanna die before I’m old.”_

 

_“Why would you even think about that? We’re fourteen.”_

 

_Tyler frowned. “I don’t know. I just did.”_

 

_“I’d love to die of old age. I’d be an old man that dyes his hair a different color every week and I’d play drums for my grandchildren and you’d be there singing along. We would make everyone jealous with our adventurous stories. Years and years of me and you to tell.”_

 

_Tyler smiled at him. “You know, Jish, because of you I might think twice.”_

 

_*_

 

Tyler thought late afternoon was the best time to die. Maybe he could do it watching the sun set. 

 

That’s why when he woke up that morning he took his time. He sliced a pink-red apple in two, ate half of it, made himself some coffee. He drank it sour and hot. He burned is tongue. 

 

The scald wasn’t painful, but very annoying. The never-ending chafe of his irritated tongue and palate made Tyler nervous. 

 

At least he had an excuse to skip lunch. His mother seemed to sadden at his refusal, yet she smiled at him and nodded.

 

He took a shower. It cleaned the tense between his shoulder blades and loosened the knots in his temples, but it could not wash away the part of him suggesting to wear the one t-shirt he had never worn since the Loss. His Loss.

 

He decided he would. It was his last day after all.

 

_“Dude. I’m telling you it’s sick as frick, but.”_

 

_“But what?”_

 

_“It’s a bit—you know me.” Tyler unzipped his sweatshirt._

 

_Joshua raised an eyebrow. “It’s a white t-shirt with your name on it.”_

 

_Tyler took off his sweatshirt, then opened his rucksack to take out another. He unfolded it and kept it hanging open beside him._

 

_Josh’s smile exploded like a supernova. “Tyler’s best friend?”_

 

_“Yeah. But hey. It’s not one sided.” He showed him the back of the t-shirt, which had ‘Josh’ on it, and then he turned around himself to let him read what was written on his back._

 

_“Josh’s best friend?”_

 

_Tyler laughed shyly. “Yeah.”_

 

_He almost melted in the warm relief that waved through his bones as Josh hugged him from behind. “I love them. Thank you. You’ll always be with me, right?”_

 

_Tyler thought Josh should have taken his life. Josh should have taken his soul._

 

_“I’ll be holding on to you.”_

 

_*_

 

Tyler was wearing his t-shirt, the paired one on his lap. He refused to smell it even if the urge to was making him fall apart. He had done it too much during the First Week and he was afraid that if he did it again all that was left of the molecules of _his_ smell would have got wasted inside lungs that were to die.

 

He was sitting at the desk in his bedroom. He found his old favorite pen in the first drawer. He held it tight remembering how he used to write songs with it. 

 

He made sure it worked on a blank paper, and then started to write. 

 

 

_where’d you go?_

 

_they all Think I know_

_you, It’s so hard to mo    ti_

_vate me to_

 

_Devote_

_a_

_Single inch of me   to_

_Something I Can’t see   I    don’t    mean  to_

_pry_

_but_

 

_w h y_

_would you even make the eyes?_

 

 

_AndifIsaidthatIwouldliveforyoufornothinginreturn_

_Well,   I’m sorry_

_but_

_Lying’s all I’ve learned_

 

 

 

 

He put his pen down. 

 

Sunlight was struggling against the dark blue enveloping it. It was time. 

 

He stood up and quietly walked out of his room. He locked the bathroom door behind him and leaned onto it, eyes wandering on the ivory white ceiling. 

 

He emptied his mind to fill his heart. The box of Xanax was in the second drawer on the left. Tyler went for it trying to avoid his miserable reflection on the mirror. He filled the glass he used every morning to wash his teeth with tap water and decided he would take all the pills he had, two or three at time.

 

His fingers were shaking. He could say it just one time. The last time. “I miss you so much, _Josh,”_ his voice was weak, shy after an eternity of silence. “I _always_ love you.”

 

He took the first three pills in his sweaty palm and nodded to himself, swallowing his emotions down his sore throat.

 

Then, he heard the last thing he would have ever expected to hear. A cat meowing. _That cat_.

 

He turned around, to the still closed door, and the pills fell from his hand like sand through open fingers.

 

“I can’t believe you dared to hurt him.”

 

Josh was standing right there, holding Drumstick in his arms and petting his head. He was shaking his head disappointedly. 

 

Darkness came faster than his eyelids as Tyler passed out.

 

*

 

Tyler was trying to open his eyes. They felt glued. He rubbed then and frowned angrily. His head was aching.

 

“My pretty sleeper.”

Tyler opened his eyes. There he was. Sitting on his bed.

 

“Your twisted mind is like snow on the rooftops,” he said, tilting his head dearly. 

 

“I’m going crazy. I’m crazy. I’m crazier than before.” He paused. “Am I dead? No, don’t answer, do not answer. I will not talk to the shape of my sickness. I can’t have conversations with myself.”

 

Josh started—Whoever that was, he started giggling. “You’re talking to yourself anyway, silly.”

 

Tyler’s throat clenched painfully. His eyes were immediately dimmed with tears. “Oh, please. Do that again.”

 

“What?”

 

Newborn tears dug their way down Tyler’s face. Their trail was icy as the tail of a comet. “Laugh.”

 

The other one smiled. The sadness in his eyes was enough to make Tyler try to touch his hand, but he was interrupted. “Would you like me to explain this to you?”

 

If his brain wanted to help him for once Tyler wouldn’t say no. He nodded quickly.

 

“I’m replying to your letter.”

 

“What letter?”

 

“The one you wrote before trying to kill yourself,” Joshua replied calmly. “This one,” he took it out of the back pocket of the skinny black jeans he was wearing. He unfolded it. “You remember, I guess.”

 

Tyler obviously remembered. He just didn’t understand. “It had no recipient.”

 

“Joshua. Love. Death. Happiness. It had several.”

 

Frowning, Tyler pinched his nose. “I’m not following you. I’m still not sure you aren’t some twisted creation of my mind, so, at least, could you please be less cryptic? I can’t believe I can’t understand my own hallucinations.”

 

“That’s not uncommon, don’t worry. Besides, even if I were a creation of yours, talking to yourself wouldn’t be that weird, would it?” he grinned. 

 

“Yeah, sure thing. I’m fucking nuts. Oh God” was his moan. “Is this a torture of some kind? You look like— you’re just like him.”

 

“And what was he like?”

 

“He was… like breathing. Drinking after a long walk under July’s sun. He was like being on the road at night, traveling to nowhere, possibilities unfolding every mile left behind.” Tyler realized he was digressing. “Look, what I mean is you _physically_ look exactly like him. Even your clothes—are just like his. He just had blue hair when—you know. Not dark blue, though. More like a cloudless sky.”

 

“Does ice-white hair not suit me?”

 

Tyler studied his face carefully, like he’d done thousands of times in what seemed another life. “There’s no color that’d make you look less beautiful.”

 

That’s when his mother knocked. Anxiety gripped Tyler’s brain in a fist. She opened the door slightly and her head popped out. “Tyler, if your mouth’s doing better, dinner is ready.”

 

He had forgot about his tongue. He looked at the boy sitting on his bed, then at his mother, and then back at him.

 

His mother didn’t seem to see him. “You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to, just come spend some time with us. Yesterday was nice, wasn’t it?”

 

“I’ll be here, and I’ll be more keen on talking to you when you come back after dinner,” the Josh-boy said. “Come on. Tell her you’re going.”

 

Without processing it, Tyler spoke. “I’m coming.”

 

He would be lying if he said the touching happiness and barely hidden surprise on his mother’s face had left him indifferent.

 

 

*

 

When Tyler came back to his room, his head was way better than when he left it. Although his mother had almost cried when he actually spoke to her, she didn’t force him to do it again, nor did she share it with the other members of the family.

 

She probably would have in Tyler’s absence, but that wasn’t bad. He just hoped the others would behave like her, without trying to pressure him.

 

“What the hell are you doing?”

 

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

 

“Going through private stuff,” was Tyler’s dry response. He took the album from the other’s hands and shoved it back in the closet.

 

“I was just looking at some pictures.”

 

Tyler suddenly felt his heart’s beat increase. Blood was rushing through his veins, hot and upsetting. He felt like he was boiling. “Look, I don’t fucking care if I’m pissed at my fucking self or at some strange thing who came into my life just to torture me with its looks, the truth is I _am pissed._ If I don’t want you to do something, you don’t it. Do you understand?” he said accusingly. He noticed that, with his voice, he had raised his finger and was pointing at the other’s face. He was being harsh to _that_ face. His head began to spin.

 

Just as he felt his knees get weaker, a pair of arms surrounded him. 

 

“Don’t touch me” he whispered, but he knew that he would rather be nowhere else. That body, those arms, they were all too familiar and completely unknown at the same time. His arms held onto the back of the other’s hoodie. A hand found a way through Tyler’s hair, stroking it.

 

“Be angry, Tyler. Cry. Talk. Hate me, if that helps you. Just stay alive.”

 

“Who are you,” he muttered in his shoulder.

 

“I’m your reply. Would you believe me if I told you I’m a bit of all the things I talked to you about before?”

 

Tyler gripped the cloth tighter, considering it. He shook his head. After some time, he asked: “Are you part _him_?”

 

“We look alike, don’t we?” he joked. “Josh’s passed through me. I know his soul. I’ve been into it as he’s been into me. I know his memories and emotions.”

 

“That’s why you do but you don’t feel like him.”

 

Tyler felt a laugh echo through his chest. “If I didn’t understand how much what you shared meant to both of you, I’d be offended.” He paused. “I’m staying here for a while.”

 

He felt steady enough to stand by himself, so he untangled from the embrace. He stayed close. “Do you have a name? What do I call you?”

 

“Since you seem to have an issue with ‘ _Josh_ ’, and I suppose that even if you hadn’t you still wouldn’t want to call me that, I’ll let you choose one.”

 

Tyler touched his hair. It was so soft and slightly mussed. “Can you, like, change it?”

 

The other’s smile grew wide. “Yeah.”

 

“Change it for me. Make it red now. Please.” Tyler watched as it changed into a blood red. “Can I call you Ruby?”

 

“You can.”

 

They didn’t talk much after that, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. 

 

When Tyler got in his bed, Ruby took a seat next to him.

 

He was exhausted. He was emotionally wrecked. “Ruby?”

 

“Yes, Tyler?”

 

“I have three questions.”

 

He nodded. “Go on. Number one?”

“Don’t you need to sleep?”

 

“Not yet, no” he answered. “Two?”

 

“Can you promise me you’ll always change your hair? Just, never blue. Blue is for when you’re leaving. ’s that okay?” his eyelids were so heavy.

 

“I promise, and that’s a deal. Last one?”

 

Tyler frowned, half asleep already. “I don’t remember. But I’m sorry for hurting Drumstick.”

 

Ruby extended his arms and let his forefinger caress Tyler’s cheekbone. “I know. He knows it too. How about you tell him yourself tomorrow?”

 

Tyler nodded, and he couldn’t say if he was just to sleepy to care about what he was saying, too exhausted to mean it or if he just felt the need to spit it out, but before drifting into sleep, he muttered: “Thank you.”

 

“Thank _you_.”

 

_“Joshie?”_

 

_“Yeah, Ty?”_

 

_“Thank you for being my friend.”_

 

_“Thank_ you _.”_

 

 

_*_

 

The following morning, they were alone in the house. Ruby followed him downstairs. His hair was still red, but not a bloody one anymore: more like deep orange. 

 

“Er,” Tyler began. “Do you need to eat?”

 

“I don’t really need to, but I’d like to try” he sounded excited. 

 

“I can make you a toast, if you want. And some coffee. I’m not that good of a cook.” Then Tyler noticed his hoodie was a different color. “Did you change yourself overnight?”

 

He shrugged. “Kinda?”

 

Tyler gave him a perplexed look. “If you can change yourself as you please, why don’t you wear something more comfortable than skinny jeans? It’s not like we’re going anywhere.”

 

“Oh,” he seemed surprised. In a blink, he was wearing pajama-like clothes. “You’re right, I guess, but those jeans are _sick_.”

 

The familiarity of the saying and voice made Tyler smile while making the toast. 

 

“You’re smiling.”

 

Tyler froze, in shock. “I guess I am,” he murmured. 

 

“I can feel how much Josh loved your smile. I can understand why.”

 

Tyler looked down at the toast. “I loved his too.”

 

_The Last Time they were in Josh’s bedroom, lying on Josh’s bed._

 

_Tyler’s head was on his best friend’s chest. He was drawing imaginary circles on Josh’s abdomen, singing him a lullaby. Then he stopped. “Josh, can I ask you something?”_

 

_“Sure.”_

 

_“Would you like to kiss me?” he asked shyly, moving his head up so to look at him the eyes. They were reddened with fatigue, pale skin sharpening the dark circles under them. Tyler still thought he was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen._

 

_“I would. These past weeks, every time you have smiled to me, I have craved your kiss, but” he said, stroking the back of Tyler’s neck. “I will not kiss you, ‘cause the hardest part of this,” he started shedding tears,“is leaving you.”_

 

A breakfast and a few apologies to a cat later, Tyler and Ruby were sitting on the bench outside. Drumstick was curled up in Tyler’s lap, content with the cuddles he was receiving.

 

“How come he can see you? Is it some cat thing?”

 

Ruby laughed, and Tyler’s heart stopped. He loved that laugh with all of what was left of his heart. “No, Ty. Everyone can see me if I want them to.”

 

“Does he know you’re not him?”

 

“He does,” he nodded. “You should adopt him. He doesn’t have a place to stay since Josh’s family moved.”

 

Tyler realized he was right. He used to avoid Drumstick because he reminded him of the past, but now that he had Ruby not purposefully reminding it to him every second with existing and purposefully doing so with his words anyway, adopting the kitten made sense. He was in need of a shelter and some care. “Maybe I should, yeah,” he said. That would have made _him_ happy.“What do you think, little one?”

 

Drumstick meowed and purred back.

 

Ruby stroked his head. “I like to think that since he stayed, he’s here for you.”

 

The thought shook him. It was utterly ridiculous and absolutely heart clenching at the same time. He looked up at the boy beside him. “Just like you.”

 

Ruby smiled. “Just like me.”

 

 

*

 

“I want to try Taco Bell.”

 

“How do you even know what that is?”

 

Ruby taps his temple. “Josh.”

 

“Then you know how it tastes.”

 

“Come on. You know it’s not the same thing.”

 

“Actually, I don’t.”

 

Ruby handed him the phone. “Why don’t you call your mom and tell her to bring some home?”

 

Tyler rotated his forefinger beside his head. “I would never.”

 

“She’d love that.”

 

“I know, but no. No.”

 

“Look, my friend, you’re about to adopt a cat. Might be better if you put her in a good mood, right? I know she’s not fond of animals. Or you can come with me and we go take tacos ourselves,” he winked.

 

That was a point. Tyler grunted and grabbed the phone. He dialed his mom’s number and waited until she picked up. He hadn’t made any phone calls since forever. “Mom…”

 

 

*

 

 

During the week, Ruby’s hair had been bright orange, fuchsia, pink, baby pink, deep purple and lilac, as it still was. Tyler loved this last color.

 

“Lilac really suits you.”

 

“Thank you, Tyler. Dark brown suits you too.”

 

Tyler gave him a sidelong look, and then laughed, shaking his head. 

 

Ruby’s hair wasn’t the only thing that had kept changing that week. 

 

Everyone in the house had grown fond of little Drumstick, even his mother. He was able to make them all the smile, and gave love selflessly whenever it was needed. Tyler had talked to his family a few times, had eaten some more at dinner. He had taken a few walks down the road, even though they were brief ones, with both Ruby and Drumstick.

 

“Tyler, go sit at your desk.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Just do it.”

 

Tyler sat at his desk. “What now?”

 

Ruby sat on the edge of the desk. “Paper and pen.”

 

He was starting to worry, but did as he was told. Drumstick curled around his legs, soothing him with his warm presence. “What now?”

 

Ruby looked down at him, eyes attentive. “Write his name.”

 

“No.”

 

 

*

 

With days passing, the weather got colder and rainy.

 

One afternoon Tyler found himself staring at the drops wandering on his window pane. They reminded him of other drops; shiny drops of sweat, like transparent pearls. He remembered the milky and tattooed skin under it. “Can you play drums?”

 

Ruby got up from the bed. “I know how to. Doesn’t mean I can.”

 

“I played the piano. And the ukulele. You probably know.” Tyler suddenly felt like crying.

 

“You played your voice, too. Do you feel better now that you’ve stopped?”

 

“What kind of question is that?”

 

“Just a normal question. Yes or no. Do you feel better?”

 

Tyler thought upon it for some minutes. “I wouldn’t say I do.” He heard Ruby’s steps approaching.

 

“Then why’d you stop? It was because Joshua died, wasn’t it?”

 

“You’re being harsh with me.”

 

“You should be used to it by now. You’re harsh with you yourself.”

 

Tyler stood up and fisted the front of Ruby’s sweater. “Come with me.”

 

And Ruby went with him, followed him downstairs until they were out of the house, under the cold and pouring rain. Tyler grabbed the other’s hand and started running, bench and swing left behind. After half a mile, he was soaking wet and his bones were freezing. His lungs burned, in need of air to fill them. He stopped where the little forest began, trees in line like an army. 

 

He looked up at That one. The burned side of It was dead and leafless. “That was me. I set my treehouse on fire. My ukulele was in there too. That’s when I swore I’d never sing again.”

 

_Last Time Tyler and Josh were at the treehouse, Josh asked Tyler to sing something for him._

 

_Tyler’s hands were shaking as he took his ukulele and smiled to his friend. The friend he loved. “Wise men say,” he began, and Josh smiled and blushed instantly. His face would have made Tyler fall in love if he hadn’t been already. “Only fools rush in, but I can’t help falling in love with you.”_

 

Ruby grabbed him by the shoulders, turning him around. They were face to face, but Tyler couldn’t look at him in the eyes, so he focused on his damp yellow hair instead. 

 

“Tyler, look at me.”

 

Tyler’s tears merged with the tears of a whole sky.

 

“Tyler. Tell me why you stopped singing. Tell me now.”

 

He finally looked at Ruby’s borrowed face. The reflected ghosts of flames burning behind Tyler were making him look desperate, and yet fierce. He almost felt like his… “ _Josh,”_ he exhaled. “ _My Josh died._ That’s why I stopped singing, because my Josh is dead. Josh is dead. My Joshie.” 

 

While walking home with Ruby’s hand surrounding his waist, Tyler let his head rest on his friend’s shoulder. He whispered Josh’s name all the way, repeating it over and over for all the times he denied it to his lips.

 

_“My sister says the world would be a better place if we all were always happy.”_

 

_Tyler looked at Josh in disbelief. “And how would we understand that we are actually happy if we were never sad?”_

 

_Josh’s eyes shone in the dark. That was how their sleepovers ended every time. Talking. “That’s exactly what I told her. I think sometimes—sometimes you gotta bleed to know that you’re alive and have a soul.”_

 

_Tyler knew he was right. But it took someone to come around to show anyone how._

 

_Tyler had his someone, and smiled at him, looking for his hand to hold until morning came._

 

 

*

 

 

“You know what day tomorrow is.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Ruby?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Can you sleep with me and Drumstick tonight?”

 

“Of course.”

 

 

*

 

The morning after, Tyler did not say a word as he woke up. He kissed Ruby’s chaotic green hair and let Drumstick lick his fingers.

 

He sat at his desk, and for the first time in a year, he took out his old songs’ notebook and his favorite pen. He would let the stomach inside his brain throw up into the blank pages. 

 

No one interrupted him. Not even his mom. When she opened the door to call him down for lunch, he didn’t even notice it. She understood like moms understand. She waved at Drumstick, and she could have sworn she’d seen _someone familiar_ sitting on the bed with the cat, a glimpse of green hair, but when she looked again, the spot was empty.

 

When Tyler put his pen down, Ruby put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m so proud of you.”

 

Tyler put a hand to cover his and interlaced their fingers. “Thank you.” He hesitated, then: “Do you want to read it?”

 

Ruby shook his head. “No. I’ll hear it when you’ll feel like singing it to Josh.”

 

Tyler smiled, a single tear streaming down his face to his chin.

 

 

*

 

A few weeks later, Ruby’s hair was silver. “Come on. This can’t be that difficult.”

 

Tyler snorted. “Easy for you to say. It’s not like you can get hurt or stuff.”

 

He raised an eyebrow. “Scared of getting hurt? That’s good.”

 

Tyler nodded. “I had forgot how fear was our most powerful emotion.”

 

That’s why love was that important. Love was full of fear. Fear of being left alone, of not being loved, of not being enough… _just fear_.

 

“You’re right. I’m afraid of damaging this wonderful pair of ripped jeans. I’m too hot with these on. You’re lucky you can see me.”

 

Tyler took a deep breath and turned the car on. He put both his hands on the steering wheel. He was lucky indeed. “I am indeed. Now shut up and let me focus. I really need that ukulele while I’m still alive.”

 

 

*

 

The second time Tyler got on his car, they were heading to the cemetery. 

 

Ruby’s hair was pitch black. Coincidences.

 

As they got closer to the tombstone, pain would invest Tyler in waves. He tried not to think of Josh as a fist of ashes, but the thought crawled in his mind even if unwanted. 

 

They sat down, and Tyler left the single sunflower he’d bought just in front of him.

 

His friend took his hand. 

 

The First after the Last Time Tyler sang, it was still for Josh.

 

“Hello. We haven’t talked in quite sometime…” 

 

 

*

 

 

The third time Tyler got in his car, they were heading to a bookshop.

 

Ruby’s hair was dark grey. 

 

The weather was icy cold and snow threatened to come down every second more. 

 

“Oh! That one looks nice.”

 

Tyler agreed. “It does. Let’s go,” he parked.

 

Once they got inside, Ruby wouldn’t shut up for a second. 

 

Buy this one, oh no, this one. I can’t believe this kind of book exists. Is that a pen with a fucking cat on it? Tyler, you have to buy it to me, seriously. I mean it. A friendship pen. Tyler, it’s my birthday.

 

“Can you shut up for a second?”

 

“Uhm, sorry?”

 

Tyler turned to the voice. A pair of shocking blue eyes dug their way into his. “I— uh—er, I’m sorry, I—was just” he turned to Ruby, who was crying of laughter, “talking to myself, apparently, yeah.”

 

The shop assistant (Jenna, her card said), smiled her way out of the weirdness of the situation. “It’s not that bad, isn’t it? It happens to me too.”

 

Tyler could still hear Ruby’s laughs. “To tell yourself to shut up?”

 

She laughed. Her laugh was refreshing. “Well, no, not that. What were you looking for anyway…?”

 

“Tyler.”

 

“..Tyler? Can I help?”

 

“Oh, yeah,” he answered, unwilling to let that sweet girl go. “I was looking for something about decisions. Decisions and consequences. Something to reflect upon.”

 

When Tyler got back in his car half an hour later, he had Jenna’s number, a copy of _All my sons_ and a happy Ruby, holding his cat-pen as if it were the most special gift ever.

 

*

 

“I wrote a song for you.”

 

Ruby made the saddest smile Tyler had ever seen. “Would you sing it to me?”

 

He nodded and lifted his ukulele. “Ruby I hope I see you, I’ve waited all this week for you to come my way,” he smiled. “Your soul will capture me.”

 

Ruby was the same as always. His eyes were just a bit watery.

 

“Your momma painted your room, a shade of pink she said, but with your great arrival that shade has turned to red.”

 

Ruby put his sweatshirt’s hood up and crossed his legs on the bed. He put his chin on his hand, never looking away from Tyler.

 

“Ruby take my hand, please led me to the Promised Land. Tell me where am I from? Your eyes say, shada de da dum. Ruby you’re royalty, in your home land they all call you king. Tell me where are you from? Your eyes say, shade de da dum.”

 

Ruby extended his arm to cup Tyler’s cheek while he was still singing.

 

Tyler leaned in the touch. “You’re an angel fallen down, won’t you tell us of the clouds? You have fallen from the sky, how high? How high?”

 

Ruby retrieved his hand.

 

“You’re true, and pure. You hold the cure.” Tyler watched as Ruby pulled off his hood. His voice broke. “We’re all diseased. You hold the key.”

 

Ruby’s hair was blue. Blue like a cloudless sky.

 

Tyler closed his eyes, tears slipping through his eyelids like prisoners on the run. He screamed until his throat hurt. “You’re an angel. You’re an angel. You’re an angel You’re an angel. You’re an angel.”

 

When he opened his eyes again, he was alone.

 

*

 

Five years later, Tyler caught a glimpse of blue hair at his wedding. His hurt jumped, but Jenna’s sweet lips were there to kiss the vision away.

 

*

 

When Tyler published his first album, he thought there could be no greater joy than that.

 

But then, he was on tour.

 

After tour, he became a father.

 

The little boy’s name was Joshua.

 




 

Tyler had grandkids. 

 

He loved them with all of his soul. Especially little Ruby. Her locks of red hair were always around him to ask for stories and songs and oh, did Tyler have stories to tell and songs to sing.

 

But late at night, in his bed, when Jenna would calmly sleep next to him, Tyler wandered through the corridors of his house. Sometimes he would even have a walk outside.

 

That was exactly what he was doing that night. Walking.

 

Wandering. Possibilities still unfolding at each step.

 

There was a bench by the little lake in the park, the one half a mile away from his house. Tyler loved to sit there and wait it to be morning, trying to figure out a route to save his past.

 

The night would eventually start to grey. The stars would start to fade. The darkness whole would fade away. 

 

The sun was about to come out, when _someone_ sat next to him. 

 

“I like mornings. I just like watching the sun rise. It means what we did has been undone. We can try again.”

 

As Tyler turned to look at _his_ _Josh,_ he understood all his life had come to that moment.

 

As they locked their eyes, their hands and their souls, Tyler felt like that madly in love teenager serenading Josh in his treehouse again.

 

All his blood was washed away and all he did had been undone.

 

*

 

The light was bright, and it was everywhere.

 

Just as if Tyler was looking at an immense ivory white ceiling…

 

 

 

 

 

_The End_

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still a trashcan
> 
> (some promo: my first fic, "Almost", is all fluff and friends to lovers stuff, go heal your heart)


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